Only in Isolation
by Secret of Decay
Summary: There is a simple constant throughout all the realms they've explored. There is one oasis amidst the chaotic expanse that stretches on forevermore before them, dunes cresting to meet the sun in the ever-distant horizon, always hiding the next pit of turmoil that they'll eventually stumble into. (Outlaw Queen one-shot)


**A/N:** Whoa, hi, it's been forever. Sorry for not publishing, if anyone was looking for a new story. Truth be told, I had one, but then the finale came out and completely took away from the plot of it, so I had to scrap it. Speaking of the finale, that aired forever ago. How did you guys like it? Anyway, I have a dozen different ideas and three different stories started, but I've had no time to write. But now I'm done with everything, so if you guys want I can publish more often.  
Now, this piece. I hope you like it. If you do, please tell me. If you find something you don't like, tell me! I love getting all criticisms, it helps me grow as a writer. This is just a short drabble I did when it was really late. Hope you enjoy :)

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There is a simple constant throughout all the realms they've explored. There is one oasis amidst the chaotic expanse that stretches on forevermore before them, dunes cresting to meet the sun in the ever-distant horizon, always hiding the next pit of turmoil that they'll eventually stumble into.

Baths.

Though substantially more luxurious in a world of refined plumbing and water heaters, there has always been a safe place to retreat in a tub brimming with water kissed by fire. There is a realm all its own. Secluded, serene, a temporary somewhere beyond the touch of time. The moments roll by with the gentle waves that seek to caress moving skin. The chosen depths borrow any imperfections and chase them away, back to a world where flaws can exist. Here, there's only peace, isolation, and calm.

Now, they lay within the porcelain barriers of that realm, abandoning the common labels of "queen" and "thief" or even "Regina" and "Robin". They lay as two halves of a whole, melded together as souls crafted for one another should.

It's not just the water that holds her, but his roving hands as they cup and embrace the curves, peaks, and slopes of her body. His fingers curve around her stomach, skim around the contours of her hips, make the slow and tender ascent back up to her shoulders, over her obliques, even teasing her breasts. He stamps his lips into the side of her head that isn't tilted into him. His gentle and gradual path stretches up her neck and follows the sharp turn of her jaw right into where her ear meets the rest of her placid face. All the way, he's especially attentive to the notch just under her earlobe and the silky underside of her chin. Meanwhile, fingers find fleeting grooves along her arms as they press and rub circles and other incoherent patterns. There's one knee propped up against the one side of the tub. She teases a touch with her own leg, careful to languidly sway the limb close enough to feel his own heat but never fully brush against it. Besides, she's got her other leg bent into his, their knees curved together and her toes flexing under his foot.

At first, they talked, passed casual words in impassioned whispers into ears sensitive from a full day spent a world away. Yet, their fluid conversation turned into a long, broken string of sighs, hums, and assuring squeezes passed from skin to skin. The periods between her lazy leg swings extended beyond her count until she finally looked through the dense fan of her eyelashes and found both her legs propped along his, exactly copying their formation. Too long she spent resisting the desires of her leaden head, like a magnet drawn to him. Without her heed, she dipped back in search of his chest, each time snapping back up when her hair flattened against the column of his neck. And, without fail, he constantly shifted to create a pillow for her within the nooks of his body. He was always prepared for her.

Somewhere between the soft kisses and firm hands kneading the stress from her muscles, she found herself completely slumped against him. The scent of wet pine wafted into her nose, fixed in the hollow under his head. Behind her eyelids, visions of a forest damp from freshly fallen rain filled her mind. Moss clung to the darkened trees and droplets of moisture hung from the leaves and undergrowth like tiny ornaments. The dark earth rejoiced underneath scattered puddles and patches of mud. An idle breeze, his breathing, and her heartbeat were all in sync. His bare chest, fluctuating and insistent, guided her lungs in their collection of oxygen.

He collected her sunken hands with his and folded them across her stomach, beneath his arms. He rubbed long, lethargic strokes back and forth.

Consciousness slipped from her grasp, right down the drain, but not before she felt him murmur into her hair. His words lost their meaning in her haze, but they somehow found a way to give her the content, the comfort to fall away.

She wavered between a dance of illusions and memories and even a blend of both. First, she felt his lips, ardent and hungry on hers. The sensation slowly morphed into more of a sweet embrace, a promise of forever, an acknowledgement of a single, entwined fate. Then there were his hands again, this time pulling at her hips, next curving around her back. His abdomen, his entire body, cushioned her throughout. Holding, caressing, touching, tangling, stealing smiles, tugging, mingling breaths, gazing, wanting, loving.

The dreams hitched with a delayed kiss planted on her temple. When she stirred, he swept his nose down her cheek. "I apologize, did I wake you?" He murmured.

Her eyelids lifted open, revealing the creeping shadows of eve that were beginning their stretch across the immaculate room. The water had lost its initial heat and sat at a comfortable temperature just above tepid. "Why didn't you wake me sooner?" She hummed back.

"You looked quite serene. I was fine besides." He said, arms tightening around hers.

"Yes, well, I can also look serene sleeping in our own bed." The hidden smirk on her face betrayed the feigned irritation laced in her voice.

The small smile could not go undetected in their contained, little world. His lips found the corner of her tired eye. "You deserve to rest."

At that, she abandoned her fatigued and jesting argument in exchange for a wide grin and a flash of teeth. She slid one arm from beneath his and slid it along the rim of the tub to give her leverage as she twisted herself to face him. She took her turn to trace his face and his collarbone; all the while, he fixated on her face with a content stare and a solitary revealed dimple. His leg molded around her to prevent her from moving any farther away, not that she planned on it. Her body fell toward his again, her face to his this time.

With a mere whisper of space between their lips, noses brushing, and foreheads bumping, she paused. Four hands migrated away from her stomach and settled in new territory on the shared continent of their bodies-his following the arc of her ribs and hers resting on the back on his neck and the solid surface of his chest. Her dark irises searched the electric blue of his for a dare, a beckoning, a behest, perhaps a plea. She knew it was there, it always was now, only occasionally tucked away in a teasing game. When she found it, as she proved she would each and every time, she'd close the space between them at last, this time with her mouth open to him and her heart exposed on her chest to the safety between them.

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What did you think? Anything that I need to work on? (Truth be told, I'm really unsatisfied with this piece, but I'm very critical of myself) Thank you so much for reading and I love you so much if you review anything I write. I appreciate you all. :)


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